Othello. William Shakespeare. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: William Shakespeare
Издательство: Bookwire
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isbn: 9788027223824
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       IAGO

       Why, by making him uncapable of Othello’s place;—knocking out his brains.

       RODERIGO

       And that you would have me to do?

       IAGO

       Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to him:—he knows not yet of his honourable fortune. If you will watch his going thence,—which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one,—you may take him at your pleasure: I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me; I will show you such a necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high suppertime, and the night grows to waste: about it.

       RODERIGO

       I will hear further reason for this.

       IAGO

       And you shall be satisfied.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE III. Cyprus. Another Room in the Castle.

       [Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia, and Attendants.]

       LODOVICO

       I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.

       OTHELLO

       O, pardon me; ‘twill do me good to walk.

       LODOVICO

       Madam, good night; I humbly thank your ladyship.

       DESDEMONA

       Your honour is most welcome.

       OTHELLO

       Will you walk, sir?—

       O,—Desdemona,—

       DESDEMONA

       My lord?

       OTHELLO

       Get you to bed on the instant; I will be returned forthwith: dismiss your attendant there: look’t be done.

       DESDEMONA

       I will, my lord.

       [Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and Attendants.]

       EMILIA

       How goes it now? he looks gentler than he did.

       DESDEMONA

       He says he will return incontinent:

       He hath commanded me to go to bed,

       And bade me to dismiss you.

       EMILIA

       Dismiss me!

       DESDEMONA

       It was his bidding; therefore, good Emilia,

       Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu:

       We must not now displease him.

       EMILIA

       I would you had never seen him!

       DESDEMONA

       So would not I: my love doth so approve him,

       That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns,—

       Pr’ythee, unpin me,—have grace and favour in them.

       EMILIA

       I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.

       DESDEMONA

       All’s one.—Good faith, how foolish are our minds!—

       If I do die before thee, pr’ythee, shroud me

       In one of those same sheets.

       EMILIA

       Come, come, you talk.

       DESDEMONA

       My mother had a maid call’d Barbara;

       She was in love; and he she lov’d prov’d mad

       And did forsake her: she had a song of “willow”;

       An old thing ‘twas, but it express’d her fortune,

       And she died singing it: that song tonight

       Will not go from my mind; I have much to do

       But to go hang my head all at one side,

       And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr’ythee, despatch.

       EMILIA

       Shall I go fetch your nightgown?

       DESDEMONA

       No, unpin me here.—

       This Lodovico is a proper man.

       EMILIA

       A very handsome man.

       DESDEMONA

       He speaks well.

       EMILIA

       I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.

       DESDEMONA

       [Sings.]

       “The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,

       Sing all a green willow;

       Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,

       Sing willow, willow, willow:

       The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur’d her moans;

       Sing willow, willow, willow;

       Her salt tears fell from her, and soften’d the stones;—”

       Lay by these:—

       [Sings.]

       “Sing willow, willow, willow;—”

       Pr’ythee, hie thee; he’ll come anon:—

       [Sings.]

       “Sing all a green willow must be my garland.

       Let nobody blame him; his scorn I approve,—”

       Nay, that’s not next.—Hark! who is’t that knocks?

       EMILIA

       It’s the wind.

       DESDEMONA

       [Sings.]

       “I call’d my love false love; but what said he then?

       Sing willow, willow, willow:

       ‘If I court mo women, you’ll couch with mo men.’”

       So get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch;

       Doth that bode weeping?

       EMILIA

       ‘Tis neither here nor there.

       DESDEMONA

       I have heard it said so.—O, these men, these men!—

       Dost thou in conscience think,—tell me, Emilia,—

       That there be women do abuse their husbands

       In such gross kind?

       EMILIA

       There be some such, no question.

       DESDEMONA

       Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

       EMILIA

       Why, would not you?

       DESDEMONA

       No, by this heavenly light!

       EMILIA

       Nor I neither by this heavenly light; I might do’t as well i’ the dark.

       DESDEMONA

       Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

       EMILIA

       The world’s a huge thing; it is a great price